


An Itch to be Scratched

by Arcticstar



Series: Teen Wolf Drabbles [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Drabble, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-23
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2019-02-05 23:08:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12804381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arcticstar/pseuds/Arcticstar
Summary: Peter's first thoughts after the Hale fire.Just a drabble to get me into a more creative mood.This is literally a horrible work, I kinda want to take it down, but it's for me to look at and go, 'Never write like this again.'





	An Itch to be Scratched

Wiggling his nose, Peter huffed out a breath. Well, at least he attempted to, but his nose wouldn’t move. He lifted an arm to scratch at the blasted itch, before realising that his second movement had failed as well.

A sense of panic started to arise, as he realised he couldn’t move. He was sure he would have been hyperventilating if he could somehow control his lungs more than simply letting them perform their automatic movement to sustain his life. His attention was drawn away from his breathing as the itch grew, encompassing the whole right half of his face with a burning sensation.

With that thought, the scent of burnt flesh reached his nose and pain lit up his body. He would have screamed, but well, his lungs were only capable of taking regular breaths.

He still screamed as much as he could, be it all in his head. His mind went blank as it was awash with pain, blindly white, pressing in from almost all sides and pulling at his chest. He reached out for the pack bonds that would strengthen him, quicken his healing in body and mind.

Grasping for the warmth that always seemed to be centred at his chest, all he felt was a chasm. Gaping. Empty. _Gone_. He was packless.

The panic that had died down earlier came back in full force. It was hunters. Hunters had killed his family. He howled, the sound choked down behind an inability to vocalise, echoing through his mind and blanketing the pain with his sorrow and loss.

Though he could not howl forever. The pain returned, both in body and his bondlessness. He wanted to rip and tear, gouge his enemies for what they had done to his family. To him. But he couldn’t. Peter was stuck with his pain in a room full of beeping machines showing his steady heartbeat.

He recognised what was going on though. He knew he wasn’t paralysed. Well, he most likely wasn’t paralysed. His heart rate at the very least should have spiked with his waking, and he should have been able to verbalise some of his pain. No, he was in a coma. Healing. Healing _slowly_.

Objectively, Peter knew it was faster than any human could hope for. Any human probably would have died or become a vegetable. But it was slower than it should be. Than it would be if he had a pack. The ache in his chest, throbbed in time with the burns covering his body. Feeling the agony in his limbs, he almost wished he had perished with his pack. But he had a job to do from his role in the pack. Well, at least his role before it was decimated. He was the Enforcer. The Protector. And now, the Avenger.

No matter that his pack may not exist at the moment, it still deserved to be avenged. His alpha. His niblings. His wife and unborn child. He would avenge them. He would have his revenge.

Those hunters, and all that were involved, would never stand a chance. He would do anything, no matter the cost.


End file.
